starting to crack around the edges. “Bathroom is down the hall. Sodas are in the fridge. Holler if you need something. I’ll get you a fan. It’s a hundred and fucks degrees out here.” She left me standing there.
Well, the reception was chilly, but at least she’d let me in.
I backed my truck up and started to unload, and she came down the stairs and set a fan in the middle of the floor. Then she walked out into the driveway, green mask and all, and put my folded shirt into my hands. “Here. I washed it.”
“Thank you.” A car rolled by and the driver stared at her. I looked back at her with an arched eyebrow. “Don’t you care what people think?”
“Do I look like I care?”
“No.”
“There you go.” She turned and went back into the house and I smiled after her.
Kristen had crossed my mind a few times over the last two days. I’d actually found myself somewhat looking forward to coming over and getting further abused.
I’d asked Brandon about her boyfriend. Not straight out—I’d asked him why she didn’t have him build the stairs. Just an excuse to find out more about her.
Brandon only met him once, almost a year ago. Didn’t have much to say about it, other than the guy seemed all right. But he did say Sloan didn’t seem to like him for some reason. I’d pressed for more, but he just shrugged and said she wasn’t a fan.
Two hours later I poked my head into the living room. “Where’d you say the bathroom is?”
She’d changed into sweats and a T-shirt and she lay on the couch with a heating pad on her stomach. Her mud mask was gone.
She answered with her eyes closed. “Down the hall, second door. Put the seat back down.” She winced.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
She didn’t look fine. She looked like she was having the period from hell.
“Have you taken anything yet?” I asked.
“I took two aspirin at four a.m.” Even her words sounded painful.
I looked at my watch. “You can alternate with Motrin. I have some in my gym bag.”
I went out to the truck and got two pills and brought them back with a water bottle from the fridge and handed it to her. She took them gratefully.
“You get a lot of calls for period cramps?” she asked, lying back against the cushions, closing her eyes.
“No. But I grew up with enough women to know the drill. Also, I’m a paramedic. You shouldn’t be taking aspirin for cramps. Aleve or Motrin is better.”
“Yeah, I know. I ran out,” she muttered.
“I’m going to get some lunch. Want something?” I figured if I was going to eat, might as well ask her too.
She opened an eye and looked at me. “No.” Then she sat up with a grimace. “I need to go to the store.”
“What do you need? I’ll get it. I’m going out anyway.”
She clutched the heating pad to her belly and eyed me. “You don’t want to buy what I need. Trust me.”
I scoffed. “What? Pads? Tampons? I have six sisters. This isn’t my first rodeo. Text me what you want.” I turned for the garage before she could object. I couldn’t care less about buying the stuff, and she didn’t strike me as the kind of woman to be embarrassed by feminine products—or anything, for that matter.
She wasn’t. She sent me a long list. It was all heavy-duty. Ultra this and overnight that. I grabbed her some Motrin too.
I stopped at McDonald’s and got her food, figuring she was probably too sick to make something for herself.
When I got back, I dropped the bag of tampons at the foot of the couch.
“Thanks,” she said, sitting up to peer into the top of the bag. “I’ll write you a check. I’ve never met a guy who was willing to buy that stuff.”
“What, your boyfriend gets worried the cashier will think he’s got his period?” I said, plopping onto the couch next to her with the McDonald’s bag in my lap.
She gave me a little smile. She already seemed to be feeling better. The Motrin must have been working.
I started pulling food from the bag. “Fries,” I said, putting the red container in her hand. “And a hot fudge sundae.” I put that in the other hand.
She looked from her hands back to me in confusion.
“My sisters always wanted something salty and sweet when they were on their periods,” I explained, digging out the rest of the food. “Fries and hot